


The Shop

by MagpieMorality



Series: Writepie Prompt Fills [128]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - The Magnus Archives, Cursed Art, Gen, Spiders, horror vibes, spooky imagery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:47:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24471517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagpieMorality/pseuds/MagpieMorality
Summary: For the prompt: it's friday and I have an absolutely awful prompt for you. i have no idea what you know about animal crossing but i've been reading reddnook fics and not enough people touch upon the fact that redd sells cursed art in new horizons. so the prompt is virgil, janus and remus selling cursed art. maybe forgeries of famous paintings, maybe original pieces. i just need that sweet cursed art content. any ships are optional, though intruality could be funny.
Series: Writepie Prompt Fills [128]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1638634
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	The Shop

**Author's Note:**

> I know nothing about Animal Crossing but here is my interpretation of this prompt, with bonus TMA vibes! Because cursed items, right?
> 
> In some ways could be seen as a prequel to the last Magnus Archives prompt fill I did, but doesn’t have to be! And no spoilers for the series :)

Virgil slips into the shop through the back entrance as usual, flinging his keys onto the table and making his way up front to greet his fellow staff. Remus is twirling a canvas on his finger like a basketball while Janus does... something with the account books. There are two identical ones open, but Virgil isn’t going to ask any question. 

“Morning creepy-crawly,” Remus grins, throwing the canvas up and catching it carefully by the edges. Virgil absolutely doesn’t see something sag out of the middle when it lands upside down in his grip, a sort of sloshy red mass. Nope, doesn’t see it. 

He just smiles back tightly, glancing around the room to check the cobwebs are on their way to coming back. Janus had very foolishly dusted them all away just a few days ago, and Virgil is pleased to note the odd red marks on his face and the way he very carefully isn’t looking at Virgil. Good, that’ll teach the tricky bastard not to mess with things he doesn’t have any business messing with. 

Janus glances up and his skin glints in the fluorescent light from overhead. His eyes are as glassy as ever, and he offers his best smile after glancing at Remus to double check how its done, jaw shifting to match the wild, toothy grin Remus always wears. Virgil just huffs and turns away, walking to the glass front door to look outside. 

“Grey day, today,” he comments. Janus hums, and Remus cackles, probably more to do with the sounds of artwork being rifled through and reorganised than what Virgil had said. He’ll have to double check all of the pieces for scorch marks later, just in case. Their boss wouldn’t be very pleased to find any of the products damaged in any way. 

And he always knows. 

It really is a grey day outside, typical London sky really, but something blank about it that makes Virgil sigh in irritation. He’s not a fan of the things that play around up there, much happier with the sort of creature that lives within, or below. 

As if called he feels the little skitter of tiny feet drop onto his cheek and start to lazily wander around, exploring his face. It vanishes into his hair when he turns around to walk back to the counter- probably hiding from Janus- but he can feel it with him like a little ally for the rest of the day.

They don’t sell much; they never do. But they’re open seven days a week, all three of them generally on shift together, and sometimes they get visitors. Always visitors, never customers, and often accompanied by a phone call from their boss telling them what to put in the books, what art this particular person needs. Needs. Not wants. 

And as things go? It’s not a bad life. 

While it lasts.


End file.
